 The Beyoncé of Pancakes and Other Bodacious Breakfast BonanzasBy
Mark Peters
But while “Beyoncé” means “cataclysmically beautiful” to me, her name has a few other meanings to the other humans who scribble and scrabble around the Internet. Forgive them, Beyoncé!  The Simon Cowell of Urinals and Other Preposterous Potty ProblemsBy
Mark Peters
Unless you’ve been living under a rock lodged beneath a boulder, I don’t think I need to explain who Simon Cowell is; he makes substantially more public appearances than the Yeti.  The GWAR of Tailgaters and Other Traffic TerrorsBy
Mark Peters
It’s been a long time since I listened to, watched, or bathed in the bodily secretions of GWAR. Yet it’s hard to forget the ultra-theatrical, uber-juvenile, wet-and-splashy antics of the band that called KISS’s showmanship and raised it by multiple decapitations and several buckets of blood.  The Eric Clapton of Eating Donuts and Other Health HazardsBy
Mark Peters
Among the world’s diverse religious beliefs is the notion ERIC CLAPTON IS GOD. It’s hardly the wackiest idea, and it has more evidence behind it than most. Unlike Zeus and Wilt Chamberlain, Eric Clapton is as real as you or me, only considerably more awesome.  The Elvis Impersonator of Sandwich Spreads and Other Lunchtime LooniesBy
Mark Peters
Saying that your co-worker, nemesis, or beloved spouse is the Elvis impersonator of your bowling league or death cult makes the kind of clear, vivid statement that is so hard to find in these days of soft, mushy language and oatmeal.  The Mel Tormé of Vodkas and Other Soothing SpiritsBy
Mark Peters
Based on my Seinfeld scholarship and the citations below, I would say Mel crooooons sooooooo smoooooth. Beyond that, further research is needed. I can’t do everything for you people, though I would agree to personally evaluate the Mel Tormé of coffee.  The Jonas Brothers of Mixed Martial Arts and Other Tween-y TerrorsBy
Mark Peters
In the interests of journalism, I decided to listen to a Jonas brothers song, while gazing intently at a picture of them, hoping that their mysteries might be revealed, like an ancient parchment holding the sacred scriptures of a lost civilization. Then I decided, nah, I’m too old for that shit.  The Joan Jett of Purse Accoutrements and Other Necessary AccessoriesBy
Mark Peters
They don’t get much cooler than Joan Jett. Her name, her look, her music —even her smell— score about 1000 kabillion mega-fonzies on the cool-o-meter. |
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